SEVERE M.E. DAY, 8TH AUGUST 2025

HOME, SWEET HOME ....?

I'm grateful for a garden,

And thankful for a home - but ...

Spirit, soul, mind and body

Need space in which to roam.

A bed, or house, becomes a prison,

A garden, a prison-yard,

And existing each day - existing, not living,

Is soul-destroying - and hard.

When bed, or house and garden, become world limits ...

It's a struggle each day to survive ...

A "living death" - but more death than life ...

We long to live - and are desperate to thrive.

Ffion